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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30134871">A Theory on Looking</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/natsume_kun/pseuds/natsume_kun'>natsume_kun</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dancer Mikasa, Dates, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Implied Making Out But It's Definitely There, Literature Student Armin, Mentions of Past Toxic/Abusive Relationship, Poem and Film References, Roommates, Slight Reference to Anxiety</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 17:00:29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,247</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/30134871</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/natsume_kun/pseuds/natsume_kun</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>in which Armin is a literature student and Mikasa is a dancer, and as they traverse (read: go on 'dates' in) the hectic cityscape of Sina and South Wall Rose, they find themselves looking at each other more often, more thoroughly than they’d like to let on.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Mikasa Ackerman/Armin Arlert</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>43</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>yes welcome to part 3 of my yet another arumika fic in which armin is a literature student bc i am predictable</p><p>***ok so i finally tried to proofread despite my brain being too stupidly depressed so i might have still missed a few stupid mistakes here and there</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p></p><blockquote>
  <p>My gaze mantles your body—<br/>A city of love<br/><em>— </em>Ruth Elynia Mabanglo; Poem from Dance of the Two Left Feet (2011) by Alvin Yapan</p>
  <p>If you look at me, then who do I look at?<br/><em>— </em>Héloïse to Marianne; From Portrait of a Lady on Fire (2019) by Céline Sciamma</p>
</blockquote><p> </p><p><em>My gaze mantles your body—<br/></em> <em>A city of love</em></p><p>Armin silently reads the first two lines of the poem to himself as he sits on the bench outside the dance studio. It’s a poem he had heard from Dance of the Two Left Feet-- a film he’d decided to write about for his midterms under Professor Hange Zoe’s Contemporary Queer Cinema film elective.</p><p>Armin idly dots the tip of the pen he’s holding on the space beside those first two lines as he repeatedly muses them to himself. He underlines the word ‘gaze’, draws a circle around ‘mantles’, then jots a phrase above it: ‘to cover up instead of stripping the subject.’ </p><p>He soon finds himself looking up from the sheaf of papers in his hand.</p><p>Through the glass doors of the studio, he could see the dancers gathering in a circle in the room. They begin to sit cross-legged on the floor as a short, dark-haired man seemed to instruct them before leaning on the tall mirror-paneled wall. Soon, there’s a girl with short dark hair approaching the center of the room.</p><p>He squints, tilting his head at an angle to get a better look at the girl’s reflection on the mirrored wall.<br/><br/><em> Wait, is that her? Huh. So her hair’s much shorter now. And she seems even taller than me. </em></p><p>Not that he should have been surprised, of course. He hadn’t seen Mikasa Ackerman, a childhood friend of his, since middle school. Armin’s family had moved to the city-- here in South Wall Rose-- when he started high school, while his closest childhood friends-- Mikasa and Eren-- had stayed in the province of Shiganshina. While the two of them grew up together in the province, they had eventually moved to the capital city of Sina for college. </p><p>Up until six months ago, Eren and Mikasa had been living together, but eventually parted ways after their relationship fell out. Mikasa had temporarily stayed with a distant relative after that, but soon contacted Armin asking if she could room with him for a while. It was a sudden reconnection in the form of an email-- which was odd-- but then again, from what Armin remembers of her, Mikasa never seemed like the type to be active on social media networks. (He wonders, though, how she even got a hold of his email address-- particularly the one that had been provided by his graduate university.) In the email, Mikasa had recounted to him her situation-- explaining that she needed a place to stay after the breakup and how she didn’t want to stay too long in her distant relative’s apartment-- which <em> said distant relative </em> has also been sharing with <em> their </em> romantic partner. Said distant relative had been surprisingly kind enough to let her stay without making her pay rent but, well, she kind of felt guilty... and awkward about that set-up. Meanwhile, Armin was never good at saying no to things and this was Mikasa asking anyway-- albeit they haven’t been in contact for a long time, he supposes he could still trust her. So of course, he’d said yes when she asked.</p><p>Now, here Armin sits after having left campus-- on a bench outside the dance studio where Mikasa works-- about to meet up with her for the first time in years.</p><p>The girl with short dark hair whom he recognizes as Mikasa now dances at the center of the room, while the rest of the dancers sat gathered around-- fixated on her figure.</p><p>She soon dramatically falls on her knees.</p><p>With arms now crossing her chest, her hands slowly creep up her neck. She arches her torso back, eyes shut tight and mouth slightly agape as her hands now clutch her neck-- digging nails into skin. She reaches a hand behind-- scratching nails against her nape-- before swiftly stretching out her arm to slice across the space in front of her. As she does so, she lifts herself from the ground. She spins in pirouettes, arms <em> almost </em> wrapping around her body-- the space hovering between making it seem as if she were weaving herself-- <em> constricting </em> herself in an invisible cocoon. She stands still on her tip-toes for a moment, arms clutched across her chest once again as she lifts her center-- eyes weary and lips trembling as she reaches for single deep breath. And then she pirouettes again, gradually stretching open her arms-- as if being unwound. She leans forward and lifts her arms to obscure her face-- hiding herself as she takes seemingly trudging steps backward. </p><p>And then she falls in graceful defeat.</p><p>--</p><p>It’s around 7 PM when the dancers start clearing out of the studio. The glass doors would occasionally slide open and he’d look up to check if it was Mikasa. He had just finished annotating the poem when a tall blonde man sits beside him on the bench.</p><p>“Professor Smith.” He gapes. Armin immediately recognizes said tall blonde man as his thesis adviser, Erwin Smith.</p><p>“Hm?” Erwins turns to him. “Oh. Armin. I didn’t expect to see you here.” Erwin regards him with a polite smile. “Oh, and is that a poem? Is this, by any chance, related to your thesis?”</p><p>Armin shakes his head. “Oh, uhmm. It’s for a film class elective, actually. Contemporary Queer Cinema. But, uh, I can assure you, I-- I’m working on my thesis draft too, sir.”</p><p>Erwin nods in understanding. “Contemporary Queer Cinema? You mean with Hange Zoe?” he raises an eyebrow, amused.</p><p>“Uhmm, yes. That one.”</p><p>“I see you’ve got a good mentor right there. Hange can be… a little eccentric. Wildly eccentric, really. But I’d like to think that adds to their genius, nonetheless," he says fondly. "You know, Hange once tried casting me as the lead for this romance film they wanted to enter into the Stohess Film Festival a few years back." He chuckles at the memory.</p><p>"Oh. Uhmm… tried? It didn't work out?"</p><p>"Yeah. I gave up the role myself. Though the reason for that may sound… a little shallow to some. My partner--" Erwin smiles fondly upon saying those words. "--he would never admit it out loud, but I knew that my role bothered him," he explains. "Well, anyway, that's enough about me.” He sports a charming smile. “So… you're waiting for someone here too, I take it?" Erwin gestures towards the dance studio.</p><p>Armin nods with a hum. "I'm waiting for a friend who works here. I'll be accompanying them home."</p><p>"I see we're pretty much on the same boat. I'm waiting for my--"</p><p>"Erwin." A stern voice.</p><p>The glass door had slid open and the short, dark-haired instructor from a while ago exits the studio with Mikasa in tow.</p><p>“Oh. Levi,” Erwin says. He turns back to Armin for a moment, scratching his head awkwardly. “I’m sorry for the abrupt end to our conversation. My partner’s here so I’ll have to take my leave with him for now. It was truly pleasant seeing you here. And… take it easy on the draft. With the way you write, I don’t think there’ll be much I’ll have to ask you to revise. Anyway, I’ll see you in class this week, alright? Take care going home.” Erwin gives him a light pat on the head before standing up to take Levi’s hand.</p><p>“Armin?” Mikasa pointedly squints at him.</p><p>Now that she’s up-close, Armin could see a line of scar below her right eye. He certainly doesn’t remember that from when they last saw each other. The line of skin there rises slightly with a reddish brown color-- indicating that the cut had probably been made not too long ago. </p><p>“Mikasa. Uhmm… Hi.” He gives her a tiny wave. Mikasa returns it-- albeit she does it a little awkwardly. Armin smiles fondly at that-- thinking how she could dance with such grace he had witnessed a while ago and yet could look so gawky with such mundane gestures.</p><p>Levi gives them both sidelong glances. “Seems you found your friend,” he says pointedly to Mikasa. “Careful on the way home,” Levi mumbles impassively. He reaches towards Erwin’s back pocket and takes out their car keys. “Can we stop by the grocery store first?”</p><p>“Sure.” Erwin briefly looks back to nod Armin and Mikasa a goodbye before he and Levi finally exit the building.</p><p>Armin and Mikasa stare blankly at each other for a few seconds before he finally breaks it with a smile.</p><p>“...So it seems the distant relative you were talking about has my thesis adviser as his partner,” he chuckles.</p><p>“Oh. Right. Well, I should probably come clean and tell you that I kinda knew something about that-- that you and Erwin knew each other.”</p><p>“Is that how you got my university email?” Armin stands and gestures towards the luggage beside her. Mikasa nods. He puts the sheaf of papers and the pen he was holding inside his backpack before pulling the straps over his shoulders. He then grabs Mikasa’s luggage by the handle. </p><p>They start walking towards the exit.</p><p>“Yeah. But I didn’t ask Erwin for it or anything. I just… saw the address on his laptop and thought I recognized the name. And... I thought you could help me. Sorry. I know it’s such a strange and roundabout way of suddenly contacting you. And I don’t mean to come across as… I mean, it probably seems that way, anyway-- that I only contacted you for my own convenience. So… I don’t know why I’m even trying to explain.” Mikasa says sheepishly as she pushes the door open for the both of them. “I… I’m really sorry.” She sighs as they exit the building. The cold night wind greets them as they head towards the train station.</p><p>“Oh, it’s fine. I understand it’s getting more difficult to find cheaper places to stay here in the city these days. And if I’m being honest… I’m just glad I could see you again.”</p><p>“Oh. I-- thanks. For understanding. And same here. But I’ll admit-- I still feel terrible for not contacting you all those years.”</p><p>Armin remembers how he’d tried to look for her on social media by the time those things started getting popular when he was in high school-- to no avail, of course. He’d tried to find Eren too, and while he managed to find several accounts that seemed legitimately owned by Eren himself, those accounts never responded to any of his friend requests nor messages. Sure, Armin was disappointed. But it’s not like he shouldn’t have expected it. Things like these were more popular in the cities rather than places in the countryside like Shiganshina, after all.</p><p>He ceases in his steps and looks straight ahead into the tunnel that led into the train station. He turns to Mikasa.</p><p>“You can make it up to me. I mean, we’ve got a whole trip ahead of us for that.”</p><p>“Y-yeah. You’re right.” Her lips upturn into a lopsided smile. Armin notices and smiles back.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Mikasa peers at him from behind the coffee mug she's drinking from. They sit wordlessly at the breakfast table-- only the gurgling sound of the brewing coffee maker and his occasional page-turning breaking the silence.</p><p>Mikasa leans to the side a little and tilts her head, furtively trying to get a peek at the cover of the book he's reading. She’s trying to be <em> really </em> subtle about it-- and yet to no avail. Armin understands what she’s trying to do-- he’s picked up on it the second time she’s done it during the first week of them living together. Mikasa squints at the little she could see of the cover spread. And then she furtively leans back on her chair before going back to her coffee.</p><p>It’s a typical weekday morning at the breakfast table. Armin grabs his own cup of coffee and gives the calendar posted on the fridge a sidelong glance. It’s a Thursday. Roughly a month since they started living together, he realizes. </p><p>When he peers at her from behind his cup of coffee, he catches her doing the same-- unintentionally mirroring his coffee-drinking. He finds amusement in the timid way she hurriedly sets her coffee mug down on the table.</p><p>“Sorry. Uhmm. You… you read a different book every week. Here at the breakfast table... It’s always a new one either on Thursdays or Fridays,” she brings up awkwardly as she stirs her coffee, sheepishly glancing up at him.</p><p>
  <em> So she's noticed. </em>
</p><p>"Oh. Yeah. That’s right."</p><p>"Is it… for your classes?”</p><p>“Oh, no. This is just some light reading. I try to finish one every week. I feel like I’d go crazy if I solely had to read classical literature and stuff on literary theory. I mean, those texts are fascinating, but… also considerably heavier to digest. I like to have fun sometimes.”</p><p>“Right, of course." She clears her throat. "You know, there’s-- there’s this second-hand bookshop in Sina. I know it’s where Erwin frequents to buy books. I’ve been there with him and Levi a few times. It’s in the Stohess District.”</p><p>“A bookshop in Stohess, huh? Hm. I don’t think I’ve been there. What’s the name of the place?”</p><p>“Oh, I… I’m afraid I don’t actually remember. Not even sure if it actually has a name. It’s a hole-in-the-wall kind of place, you see. But... I could show you the place… if you want?” She glances up at Armin, clinking her fingernail against the side of the mug.</p><p>“Sure. How about this Sunday?”</p><p>“Ok." She nods. "Oh, and--" She slightly gapes but deflates almost immediately, darting her eyes to the side with unease. She’s hesitating.</p><p>“Hm? What is it?" He urges her on.</p><p>"I-- you've mentioned before how you were taking a film elective. And I remembered this other place. A small movie house in Stohess. It's called… The Mise-en-Scène, I think. Though, I'm not really sure if I pronounced that right." She lets out a small chuckle as she continues to nervously clink her mug. "They screen a lot of cult classics and foreign language films on weekdays. I just… I just thought that might be useful for you is all."</p><p>"Oh, I haven't been there as well. Though I've definitely heard of it. Maybe we can go there sometime too."</p><p>"You mean… as in see a movie together?" </p><p>"Yeah."</p><p>"I-- yeah. That sounds nice," she mumbles, staring down into her coffee mug. Armin thinks he sees her holding back a smile.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>It's 7 AM, rush hour on the train. They’re both headed to Trost district three stations away. The doors open to let a throng of people rush into the carriage. </p><p>“Oh--!” Armin yelps as he gets pushed further into the aisle of the train car. He gets separated from Mikasa who manages to remain standing in her spot by the door. She looks around, searching for his face amongst the passengers as the doors slide closed. The train starts moving again as the next station is announced. Armin stumbles but manages to grip one hand on the train pole to steady himself immediately. He looks around, struggling to spot Mikasa in the crowd with all these (taller) people obscuring his view. He tries standing on his tip-toes just to see over the shoulder of this one passenger in front of him. </p><p>And there he finds her. She finds his eyes too. He knows it probably looks stupid, but he mouths her a message anyway: ‘Are you ok?’ Mikasa smiles at that as she tries to hold back a laugh. ‘I’m fine,’ she mouths in response and gives him a thumbs-up before sheepishly smiling down at her feet.</p><p>The train soon arrives at the next station where-- thankfully, a lot of passengers depart. Now with more space in the train, Armin makes his way over to a spot in front of Mikasa.</p><p>“Hold on to me next time. So we don’t get separated,” she says plainly.</p><p>“Ok. Does this count as next time?” Armin says playfully, tugging at the sleeve of her jacket.</p><p>She chuckles. “Armin, we’re only two stations away from Trost. We’re not going to lose each other any time soon.”</p><p>“Then… just think of this as practice. For next time.”</p><p>Mikasa sighs. “I’m pretty sure we don’t need that. But sure.” She turns towards the window, smiling as she watches the light of the morning sun peek in between the city skyline. They run fleetingly warm gazes on her skin.</p><p>There's a steady silence for a while, but the train soon runs jaggedly along the tracks and Armin stumbles. </p><p>“Ow--! Sorry,” he says, accidentally bumping his head against her shoulder as he grasps onto the metal pole attached to the seat nearest to them. Mikasa, on the other hand, seems unfazed-- still anchored to where she stood, only slightly stepping back to steady herself.</p><p>“You ok?” She puts a hand on his shoulder as she looks over him with concern.</p><p>“Yeah. Uhmm, sorry about that.” He scratches his head bashfully. “Just-- just how are you able to keep your balance like that? I wonder, does it maybe have to do with… dancing?”</p><p>“Dancing? I… I don’t know. I just thought this was something you get used to with train rides.” She raises an eyebrow in doubt.</p><p>“I mean… I use the trains everyday and this still happens. A lot,” he chuckles.</p><p>“Then… I don’t know. Maybe it does have to do with dancing. Or you’re just really clumsy. And you have terrible reflexes,” she says, smiling at that last remark.</p><p>“Hey, I’m sorry,” he chuckles. “Next time, I’ll be sure to pull on your sleeve when the train goes awry again. That way, we can both look stupid stumbling in the train.”</p><p>“As if I’d actually let that happen.”</p><p>“Yeah, you’re right. You’d save me just in time from looking too stupid.”</p><p>Mikasa sighs in defeat, but soon finds herself smiling.</p><p>“By the way-- I never really got around to asking,” he starts, just as the train doors open again. One station away from Trost, he notes. “...how did you get into it? Dancing, I mean.” The doors slide closed and the train moves.</p><p>Mikasa hums pensively. “When I moved to Sina for college, I stayed with Levi. He’s an instructor and choreographer at the studio where I work now. I started out just running errands for him-- like setting up stuff in the studio and carrying props and equipment for dress rehearsals. But then there was a time when he had to take a sick leave for two weeks. He had to call off the sessions with the dancers. That meant we couldn’t get paid. After that, I just thought… maybe I could help him out next time. So I asked him to teach me just the basics at first. And then… I don’t know. I just kept going back to the studio and practicing a lot…” She swallows nervously. “...to keep my mind off of… some things.”</p><p>“Oh. I see.” Armin tries not to linger on that last bit-- on the way it seemed to trouble her. It’s probably a subject best brought up at a later, more comfortable time. “So, uh, Levi-- he helped you pay for college, I take it?”</p><p>“Yeah. I ended up shifting to Performing Arts. Majored in Dance.”</p><p>“Shifted? From what program?”</p><p>“I was... initially in Management.” Mikasa sighs ruefully. “Doesn’t suit me, I know. I only chose it because… because it’s the same program Eren was taking.”</p><p>“Oh. That’s definitely a big jump.” The thought of bringing up Eren crosses his mind, but Mikasa’s hesitant tone tells him it’s better not to. For now, he settles on taking the conversation a few steps back. “So… you’ve been working here in South Wall Rose ever since college… despite studying in Sina,” he muses out loud. “My university and your studio are both located in Trost district. But we never-- I wonder how we never saw each other here before. Not even in the trains nor the station.”</p><p>“I think the city’s just… weird. Cramped. Suffocating. And yet, rarely do people actually spare you a <em> look</em>.” Mikasa turns to the window, squinting pensively at the hectic view of streets and buildings. “Makes the city seem bigger than it actually is. It’s… I don’t know. It’s definitely not Shiganshina… when-- where things were simpler.”</p><p>Armin catches her eyes in the reflection and finds a hint of wistfulness in them.</p><p>“...Yeah. That makes sense.” He tugs lightly at her sleeve again, this time in a small attempt at comfort. He hums in contemplation. “The way the city is built makes everything feel so close, but not intimate. The physical closeness we experience here from day-to-day is rather constricting-- so much so that it makes us distant from each other. That’s why... we rarely bother to <em> look</em>. It’s difficult to see each other in such a suffocatingly hectic place. Most of the time, we’d rather just spare looks in passing. Fleeting, shallow gazes at most.”</p><p>Mikasa tilts her head in thought. “I see. I guess… the city thinks <em> looking </em> is overrated, huh?”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They're too late. </p><p>They find out that the bookshop in Stohess closes at noon on Sundays. </p><p>And turns out, it doesn't really have a name at all and people familiar with the area simply caught on to calling it 'the Stohess nook' since it was located at the corner of a humble street lined with quaint houses. Armin found he quite liked the area; it was like a tiny refuge from the frenzied motions of the city, even though technically speaking, they were still in it-- <em> caught up in it. </em> Here, things seemed to slow down somehow, even just a tiny bit. Hidden amongst these small hole-in-the-wall establishments were pockets of home and intimacy-- a slight reminder of what life was like back in the countryside.</p><p>Just so their trip isn't completely in vain, they settle on watching a film at The Mise-en-Scène instead-- just a few blocks away from the nook. They soon find out that the movie house only screens mainstream Hollywood films and horror flicks on Sundays-- a contrast to the movie lineups for the rest of the week. The owner of The Mise-en-Scène-- a bald, moustached man who had introduced himself as Dot-- explained to them that the place thrived most on Sundays and moviegoers tended to see <em> and </em> make requests for screenings of big name films, hence the difference in designated lineups. While he'd admitted to them that he preferred the lesser known films, the place-- in the end-- had to thrive as a business establishment. They were still caught up in the inner workings of this concrete jungle and if you couldn't run fast enough, you'd no sooner find yourself devoured in its skyline teeth.</p><p>--</p><p>"So, uh, what did you think of that film?" he asks tentatively. Armin grips the straw between two fingers as he takes a sip from his soda.</p><p>They'd ended up watching Michael Bay's Transformers that Sunday frankly out of a lack of choice. Two other films being screened had full seats already taken, while the only other movie with seats still available was a horror flick. Mikasa was drawn to the haunting image of a long-haired girl ominously holding up a syringe on the poster, but Armin only seemed to cower at the sight of it. She'd noticed this, of course-- so as much as she wanted to watch Takashi Miike's Audition that day, she halfheartedly insisted that they watch Transformers instead.</p><p>"To tell you the truth, I…" She sighs, watching her footsteps pensively as they make their way back to the train station. "...I've actually watched that film before already. So… I'm not really sure I can give you, say, a fairly objective reaction to it."</p><p>"Oh. You have?” He knew it-- Mikasa definitely wanted to watch Audition instead. It was merely a front when she insisted on watching Transformers earlier. “When?"</p><p>"Last year. With Eren. I watched it here before too."</p><p>"I… I see. Then, what did you think of the film when you first watched it? If you can remember."</p><p>"Honestly," Mikasa grimaces with a click of her tongue. "I thought it was shitty."</p><p>Armin chuckles at her answer. “Well, I will admit, that wasn’t exactly… my cup of tea either.”</p><p>“Eren thought it was genius, though.” Mikasa scowls. “He kept going on and on about how hot the lead actress was,” she says impassively with a roll of her eyes. “He was loud in the theatre too. Kept on mumble-shouting whenever those transformers would attack, then stuff would explode and get crushed to bits. We kept getting shushed by the other moviegoers. It was really embarrassing. It’s--” She laughs. “It’s a stupid memory. Sorry, I didn’t mean to ramble about him.”</p><p>“No, it’s ok.” Armin shakes his head. “I think it’s pretty special-- that I get to hear about memories, feelings you associate with certain places, things, and people.”</p><p>“Oh. Uhmm, thanks.” Mikasa gives him a furtive sidelong glance. “So… how about you? What did you think of the film?”</p><p>Armin takes a sip of his drink as his eyes wander, seemingly absorbed in thought. He hums in a show of contemplation.</p><p>“Shitty.” He turns to smile at her. </p><p>Their laughter coincides. </p><p>“Would Professor Hange let you get away with writing ‘shitty’ on an analysis paper?”</p><p>“Maybe.” Armin shrugs with an impish grin. “But, you know, I was just kidding. I don’t really think it’s… <em> that </em> bad. I mean, I certainly have my less than positive critiques on it-- like the way it frames the heroine’s body, for example. So it certainly wouldn’t go down in history as one of my favorites, but… at the very least, I think the way Bumblebee speaks through the car radio is kind of adorable. And I thought it’d be nice to make friends with the Autobots, actually. Plus, Optimus Prime? Hundred percent-- he’d make a cool dad.”</p><p>Mikasa chuckles. “Now you’re making me feel bad for calling it shitty.”</p><p>“Oh, please don’t,” Armin says with a reassuring shake of his head. “I mean-- I understand. These kinds of films aren’t exactly right up my alley either. I-- sorry, I know we could have watched the horror one instead. I know you would’ve enjoyed that better, but… I guess I kinda held you back.”</p><p>“It’s fine.” Mikasa hums thoughtfully. “The way you talk about these things-- you have a way of making them seem… more interesting to me. You could see something I couldn’t until you pointed it out. I suppose you look at things like… like you <em> really </em> look at them.” She sheepishly laughs to herself. “Sorry, I realize that’s a redundant way of wording it.”</p><p>“No, not really. Don’t worry, I think I kinda get what you mean. And I take what you said as a compliment.”</p><p>The two of them exchange looks for a moment before timidly looking down at their feet-- their gestures unintentionally in sync. Armin soon breaks the silence with a sip of his drink.</p><p>Mikasa speaks first. </p><p>“So… who’s picking the movie next time?”</p><p>“Hm.” Armin impishly raises an eyebrow. “Say, you want to settle that with a coin toss? Along with who buys the snacks, of course.”</p><p>“Alright. You’re heads, I’m tails.”</p>
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<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Mikasa sets down the paperback on his bedside table with a yawn. “I’m sleepy,” she says, shifting on her side to lie facing him on the bed. “Aren’t you?”</p><p>Armin peers from behind the paperback he’s reading. He tucks the bookmark in between the page spread and closes the book. “Hm. A little, I guess.” Armin shuffles closer towards her side of the bed and reaches to set his book down on the table as well. He finds himself fixated on her scar for a moment. She silently watches him with tired eyes as he settles himself beside her. </p><p>“Mikasa--” he starts, carefully pondering his words. He’s not sure where he gets the impulse to ask about it now. Maybe it has to do with the sluggish daze he’s in, accompanied by the warm light from the bedside lamp, the snug feeling of her body lying next to his, the way she blinks at him with lethargy in her eyes. They feel close enough. “You have a scar. Below your right eye.”</p><p>“Oh. This.” She briefly grazes her fingers over the scar, then eventually lets her palm close.</p><p>“What happened?”</p><p>“It’s…” She timidly darts her eyes towards the sheets. “...a cut from a knife. Eren. He was-- he got angry this one time I asked why he’d been coming home late. I… I already knew he was cheating on me anyway, so I don’t know why I even tried bringing it up. Perhaps... if I’d stayed quiet that time, I wouldn’t have this.”</p><p>“Eren cut you with--” His face quirks with indignation. “Mikasa, that's-- he's messed up. And you have nothing to blame yourself for. He hurt you and no matter what, you don’t deserve that.”</p><p>“I… I guess he doesn’t see that. And I don’t know if I could have shown him, either.”</p><p>“That’s--  Mikasa, if he really loved you, you wouldn’t have to prove to him something like that. He should’ve seen that himself.”</p><p>“Well, I… I wonder if he even saw me at all.”</p><p>“Mikasa, you deserve better. So much more than that.”</p><p>“That’s, huh… that reminds me of something Levi said-- when I was living with him again before this. That I deserve someone who actually looks at me, he said. I think… that’s when I started paying more attention to the way people look at people and things.” She chuckles tiredly. “Usually, I wouldn’t even take anything Levi says seriously. But somehow, I keep remembering those words.”</p><p>“Mikasa, he’s right.” Armin gently grips her wrist, eyeing her with worry.</p><p>She sighs. “Yeah, I… I guess I’m trying to learn that myself. Although it’s been really difficult, I think this helps-- you reassuring me, I mean. So, thank you.”</p><p>“Oh, that’s good,” he says with a sleepy smile. “Like, really good.”</p><p>She smiles at his redundant phrasing, thinking that he’s probably getting drowsy by now. “We should sleep.”</p><p>He simply hums in agreement.</p><p>Mikasa turns to lie on her other side, now facing away from him. She reaches to switch the lamp off with a click.</p><p>They bid each other goodnight in hushed, yawning voices as they settle themselves more cozily into the mattress.</p><p>When Armin wakes up the next day-- feeling warm breaks of light settling into his skin, her solemn, sleeping face greets him first thing in the morning.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Armin gets home at around early in the afternoon, just a little after lunch time. It was a Saturday and he'd only gone to university for a thesis consultation with Professor Smith-- which eventually led to him being invited to lunch out when Professor Hange had barged into the Literature Department's lounging room. He felt a little out-of-place, apprehensive at first-- thinking that he wouldn't be able to keep up with the two of them, and how he'd probably end up awkwardly picking with the food on his plate as his professors engaged in a long-winded conversation on Judith Butler's queer theory or whatnot. But as it turns out, they ended up talking about the film Dance of the Two Left Feet. Both of his professors were more than eager to hear his thoughts on it and the conversation had soon led to the three of them animatedly discussing Laura Mulvey's gaze theory in relation to the lines of poetry they'd heard from the film. By the time they were seeing him off at the station, he’d thought to himself that<em> hey, that wasn’t so bad-- that was kind of fun, actually</em>-- and he appreciated how his professors had treated him as though they were old friends, equals. They could see eye to eye.</p><p>Mikasa, oddly, doesn’t greet him the moment he sets foot in their flat. She isn’t anywhere in the shared space of the living room and the kitchen. Perhaps she had simply gone to the bathroom or the bedroom right at that moment. Something tells him he should check the latter first.</p><p>“Mikasa?” he calls out, twisting the doorknob to the bedroom.</p><p>“Fuck,” she swears, curled up in the bed among the disheveled sheets as she hugged a pillow tightly close to herself.</p><p>“Hey, are you ok?” Armin hurriedly walks up to her, sitting at the edge of the bed as he rests a palm against her forehead in concern.</p><p>Mikasa shakes her head.</p><p>“I feel like I’m dying.”</p><p>“Wh-what?!”</p><p>“It’s, uh-- ow.” Her eyebrows scrunch together as she struggles to speak, stifling her pain. “Ow-- shit. It’s-- it’s cramps.”</p><p>“Oh. Ok. Uhmm--” He darts his eyes to the sides in alarm as he tries to recall something really quickly. “Quick. Chamomile or ginger?” He gingerly holds onto her wrist, a slight attempt at comfort.</p><p>“What?” She gives him a questioning look.</p><p>“Chamomile or ginger tea? Uh, it’s for relieving menstrual cramps.”</p><p>“Oh. Uhmm, ok. Chamomile, I guess?”</p><p>“Ok. I’ll be back really quick.” </p><p>--</p><p>Mikasa raises the teacup to her lips, now sitting up in bed as Armin sat on the edge beside her. She sighs in relief.</p><p>“So how do you know about… this?” She shrugs, gesturing towards the teacup in her hands.</p><p>“Oh. My mother-- she used to ask me or my dad to bring her tea in bed whenever she’d have cramps.”</p><p>“Huh.” She takes another sip of tea. “I’m surprised you actually kept chamomile and ginger here.”</p><p>“I just… well, I usually get chamomile because I have a hard time falling asleep some nights. It’s… the anxiety.” He sighs. “And ginger… well, I always just liked the aroma of it, I guess. It’s usually what my mother preferred so it kinda grew on me.”</p><p>“I see. Thanks.” Mikasa looks down at her drink in thought. “It doesn’t hurt as bad anymore. Maybe…” She glances up at him with a lopsided smile. “...maybe you could get yourself a cup too. We could have like a tea party here or something.”</p><p>He chuckles. “Yeah. I think I’ll do that.”</p>
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<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Have you ever known love,” she says all of a sudden, ruminating out loud as they sat together on the train ride home. She says it less like a question and more like a statement. Armin immediately recognizes it-- albeit a paraphrased line she was repeating from Céline Sciamma’s Portrait of a Lady on Fire, the film they had just watched at The Mise-en-Scène earlier that day.</p><p>Armin lets out an amused chuckle at that, but playfully answers with a shrug anyway. “Yes. Probably.”</p><p>“Hm?” Mikasa gapes slightly, brought out of her own stupor. “Really? When?”</p><p>“I was in high school.”</p><p>“Oh. What was that like?”</p><p>Armin darts his eyes around the fairly deserted train car, thoughtfully recalling a memory. “I was in the student council with this guy named Jean. We’d usually be the last ones to leave the room after meetings because he’d teach me algebra, while I helped explain to him our readings from literature class. And then he’d always walk me home. Never the other way around.” He smiles fondly at the memory, and yet Mikasa picks up on what seems like ruefulness in the way he does it. “I always thought it was sweet, but… he broke up with me during our senior year-- right after finals week. I last held him on the day of our graduation. I felt that… that he was about to kiss me right then and there. But his parents were around, of course. I overheard them asking Jean if he had a girlfriend to introduce to them among our graduating batch. He just laughed and brushed them off as he let go of my hand.”</p><p>“Oh. That’s--” Mikasa looks over him with concern. “Sorry.”</p><p>Armin shakes his head. “It’s ok. The thing is, I was never mad at him for that-- for breaking up with me. And I understand why he had to let go. I don’t regret any of those years with him. Jean, actually… he does have a new partner now and his parents had finally stopped pressing him on to get a girlfriend. They know about him and Marco. And I… I’m just happy that he’s known love. But…” Armin laughs plaintively. “...I’ll admit-- I’d like to know too.”</p><p>“You… don’t regret it.” Mikasa tilts her head in thought. “Huh. Does that mean… you still love him?”</p><p>“Yeah, but not romantically. Not anymore. We’re still good friends. He asks how I’m doing in grad school in between sending me memes,” he chuckles.</p><p>“That’s… Jean sounds very thoughtful,” she says with a warm smile. “That’s good.”</p><p>“Yeah. He was always like that.” He nods fondly, dangling his feet playfully below their seats. “Well… how about you?”</p><p>Mikasa shakes her head with a plaintive smile. “It’s the other way around, I guess. I have… regrets.”</p><p>“Oh. Uhmm, you mean… Eren?”</p><p>“Yeah. He just…” Mikasa squints in contemplation. “When we were together, I think I was always <em> looking </em> at him. But him-- I don’t think... he ever looked at me. I mean, he did but… it seemed more like he was looking at… something. But not at me-- not really.” She tilts her head musingly. “The only time he ever said he lovedme was-- it was on the phone and we weren’t even together anymore. He wouldn’t even look at me then. After that call, I just… I just knew it was already too late for the both of us. Over the course of our relationship, I don’t think I can even count how many times he’d told me I was a nuisance. It’s odd--” She lets out a humorless laugh. “--how we grew up together and yet, we just can’t see eye to eye.”</p><p>“I see. Mikasa, I… I’m glad you’re no longer in such a relationship. He seems very… ambivalent towards you. And no matter his reasons, you don’t deserve to be treated that way. Like Levi said, you deserve someone who actually <em> looks </em> at you. And in turn, you look back at them the same way.”</p><p>Mikasa silently ponders his words for a few moments, tilting her head in thought. She purses her lips, watching the city pass them by outside. The sunset dapples them both with warmth.</p><p>“Like Héloïse and Marianne-- when Marianne paints her,” Armin whimsically recounts from the film they had seen earlier. “Héloïse poses while Marianne stands behind the canvas. And yet, they are exactly in the same place-- because they look at each other the same way: with a gaze that mantles instead of stripping its subject. No one is above the other-- they both look and are looked at. They see each other as equals." Armin looks over at her.</p><p>Mikasa scrunches her eyebrows together, humming over the steady whir of the train over the tracks as she mulls over his words.</p><p>“Yeah,” she finally says with a discerning nod. “I think… that’s the kind of love I’d like to know.”<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Armin sits on the floor of the empty studio waiting for Mikasa to return from the locker rooms. It’s about ten minutes before 8 PM and she had taken charge of closing up the place today. Everyone else had left about thirty minutes ago, so she eventually offered to let Armin stay in as he waited for her to finish up. The curtains lining the glass doors and windows had been drawn closed, the only light now coming from a crack in the door to the locker rooms and the tiny gaps between the window curtains. </p><p>He makes out the image of his reflection in the dimly-lit studio and briefly wonders if <em> this </em> is what Mikasa sees when she looks at him. The mirror image is different from how he sees himself, his own body-- that is, seemingly never complete. He only ever sees himself in parts. When he looks at his reflection, there he sees his body in its entirety-- in all of its parts. He’d like to believe himself complete.</p><p>The light from the crack in the door soon disappears and he’s momentarily brought out of his introspection. Mikasa reappears and walks over to where he sits.</p><p>“Let’s go,” she says, crouching beside him as she gestures vaguely towards the glass doors behind them.</p><p>Armin is fixated on her mirror image. When their eyes meet in the reflection, he finds himself wondering: Is this who I look at? Is this who I see? </p><p>There-- in the mirror, he sees bodies: complete. </p><p>But <em> that </em> is not him, and <em> that </em> is not her. No, not really. </p><p>Those bodies are not whole.</p><p>“Armin?” Mikasa turns to face him. </p><p>Their eyes meet-- no longer in the reflection, and that is when he feels whole. Perhaps even more than that.</p><p>“Mikasa.” He pulls lightly at her hand, a gentle urge to let them both stay longer. She acquiesces, settling herself down to rest on her legs instead.</p><p>He moves closer to cradle her cheek in one hand-- holding her gaze as she leans closer, as she leans into his touch. She smiles daintily, timidly at him and he does the same.</p><p>And then he realizes, as the warmth from her cheek bleeds into his palm:</p><p>Here is a gaze that <em> makes whole. </em> And more than that, here is a gaze that mantles.</p><p>When they close their eyes, they find their lips pressed together.</p><p>She playfully bites at his lip and he, in turn, smiles into their kiss. Her fingers daintily crawl up on his chest as he places a hand on her waist, gently pushing them down onto the floor. He ends up lying on his back, fingers tangled in her hair while she lies on her side, now nuzzling against his neck as she presses kisses on his skin. With one hand, she deftly unclasps the first few buttons on his shirt, while he eventually undoes the rest himself. As she presses their lips once more, she takes his hand in hers and places it over her shoulder-- guiding him to slip his fingers under the strap of her undershirt, for him to bare her shoulders. Eventually, she's dragging his hand across her neck, leading his fingers to tug down her shirt gently.</p><p>--</p><p>They soon find themselves lying on their sides facing each other-- hair disheveled, shirts discarded, torsos bare, bodies warm: whole and mantled.</p><p>He reaches out a hand, letting his fingers graze over her eyelids-- momentarily bringing her eyes to a close. He lets his fingers traverse the contours of her nose, the lines and edges of her lips, the shape of her jaw down to her neck, the rise and dip of her collarbone. And then he stops at her heart.</p><p>She does the same with him.</p><p>As her fingers map the same contours, lines, edges, rises and dips on his skin, she is reminded of their trips together in the city-- all that they had seen, heard, and felt; all the walks and everything in transit. </p><p>She holds his gaze. </p><p>And then she reaches his heart.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>so this fic was loosely based on a lot of things (some of which i literally reference in the fic like the films i quoted + gaze theory) but i think the most important one worth mentioning is the poem i reference here: 'My gaze mantles your body' by Ruth Elynia Mabanglo (the lines/title i use are from my own english-translated version; you can find the original filipino version with the fully translated version side-by-side <a href="https://docs.google.com/document/d/1Ccrq6OVw_hk46t-BkmIHVk9QkkM8UxNta_DoYmw1d_8/edit?usp=sharing">here</a>. **disclaimer: i'm no poet so my english-translated version isn't the best. i simply translated the nuanced meanings bc idk shit abt poem structures)</p><p>also do leave kudos if u enjoyed the fic so i can be less sad and shit </p><p>this is going to be my last arumika fic. i think ive exhausted my brain enough for ideas for this rarepair and more so with the research and writing that goes into all of this-- which is already a feat for me considering my terrible mental health. so if u stuck around for all three of my arumika bullshit, thanks</p>
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